


Stockholm Syndrome Bullshit

by Pears_Not_Apples (The_5th_Witch)



Category: One Piece
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M, MarcoAce Week, Sad with a Happy Ending
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-01
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:33:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21629914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_5th_Witch/pseuds/Pears_Not_Apples
Summary: Ace prooved to be a difficult guest. Maybe because he didn't want to be there?Written for MarcoAce Week 2019.Warning:Mention of death and violence.
Relationships: Fushichou Marco | Phoenix Marco/Portgas D. Ace
Comments: 2
Kudos: 42





	Stockholm Syndrome Bullshit

"You're safe now," the man proclaimed.

Ace didn't believe him in the least. Where was he even? Some run-down cellar in the middle of town? That's what it seemed like. There was this layer of dust on the ground where he sat, telling him that this wasn't a place were people went. No lights but the one lamp in the ceiling. The only source of sound was the incredibly loud sirens from the outside.

And over him stood a man with the worst haircut he'd ever seen. It was worse than the shit Luffy pulled last summer to annoy their grandpa. 

"What have you done to me?"

Ace wouldn't admit it, but he could feel the tears forming in his eyes. He felt so vulnerable without his fire. His form was broken, the strength and confidence that normally would radiate off of him was gone, now he was but a boy in a dark corner.

This was supposed to be the infamous Fire Fist, but Marco honestly couldn't see the resemblance between him and the person before him. Crawled up as close to the wall as possible and with distress all over his face, he couldn't be the vigilante that Fossa had brought in.

"It's seastone, you won't be able to use any of your powers with it in your system," Marco explained. The boy on the floor ran a hand through his thick, black locks and tensed up. It always hurt seeing the effect that seastone had on people. Marco had experienced it himself several times, he'd had to throw up twice the first time. The boy was taking it rather well, physically at least.

The boy on the floor ran a hand through his thick, black locks and tensed up. It always hurt seeing the effect that seastone had on people. Marco had experienced it himself several times, he'd had to throw up twice the first time. The boy was taking it rather well, physically at least.

"Why would you do that... I kept away from every known territory..." The ramblings continued until he finally looked up at Marco, so painfully desperate.

"We didn't do anything to you. The marines did. All we've done is stabilise the wound."

Ace had calmed down after what felt like weeks of being awake, walking around and ignoring the food being delivered to him. 

The reality of the situation had caught up to him now. He was a prisoner. 

The man came back to him with another plate of food. As he entered you could hear the immediate with from when he saw what had become of all the previous dishes. 

"You have to eat."

"It's poisoned."

"It's not. Thatch wouldn't let anything harmful go near his food. See how thin you've grown? That's because you haven't eaten for days."

"I don't trust you."

The man was getting frustrated at this point. Served him right. Always so damn chatty, as if Ace was dumb enough to listen to him.

"I'll eat when I get my powers back."

"You're truly an idiot, you know that? Fire Fist Ace, was it? We found you bleeding on the sidewalk - it was pure luck that we came before the marines puck shackles on you. Can't you just believe us?"

"I will, when you get me my powers back. And how do you know my name?"

The man sighed again. Partly in defeat, partly in sorrow.

"It's not that easy, it requires a surgery to remove all of the bullet parts. You have many scattered in your body, most close to the heart."

Ace was empty of words. He couldn't trust these people to operate that close to his heart, could he? Were they qualified for the job?

"What's yours?"

His captor was confused at the question. "What?"

"You know my name, what's yours?"

"Marco."

"We're going away for a couple of weeks - there's a mission. Izou, the guy that Thatch won't stop talking about, will bring you food."

Ace frowned at him. "So?" His tone was harsh and his body language was reserved, just like always. They had discussed over and over the possibilities of a surgery to get his powers back. Marco spoke of it like it was going to happen but Ace just couldn't imagine giving up his will that easily. He'd been distant ever since.

"Well, we wondered if you might prefer going with us, perhaps build some trust?"

Ace was almost going to accept, say that it would be great. Not because he saw the chance to escape and not because he thought it'd be a fun thing. It was pure impulse.

But he had better control over himself that to let go of his principles that easy. 

"No! Gods, no! Why would I? Do think this is some Stockholm Syndrome situation? I'm not doing anything with you."

The slight hurt in Marco's eyes was obvious even to Ace. For a second he wondered if he did the right thing but then he remembered the facts - he was their prisoner, it was downright stupid to go with them. You don't fraternize with the enemy.

There were gunshots in the distance when Marco heard the announcement. They were to evacuate the base. His first thought should have been the safety of his family and those working with him, yet he couldn't help but immediately worry about Ace. 

No one except for Thatch, Izou and he knew about him. No one would be coming for him. The marines would find him and execute him like they did the rest of his kind. Marco knew that it was absurd how he rushed down the stairs to the garage to prep his motorcycle in a time like this, but there was no option for him.

The usually sceptical and furious eyes were full of concern when Marco burst the doors to the cellar open. Ace had obviously heard the shots.

"What's going on out there? Why could I hear screams?"

Marco swallowed. He'd heard that too? That would mean that one side or the other was hurt. He could only hope for the right one to be the ones. 

"They've found us out, we have to get moving, it's not safe for you here." He really hoped that the honesty and the desperation came through. If Ace didn't believe him now, he didn't know what he'd do.

"How?"

"I've got wheels."

Ace saw sunlight for the first time in two weeks. It was not as bright as he remembered.

His wonder was cut short, though, as Marco dragged him onto the motorcycle that stood parked right outside of the building where he'd been kept. Helmet and everything was forgotten as soon as the sound of Marine commandos echoed in the area. 

They passed bodies and bodies as they fled the area. Shouts and shots, screams and shattered dreams, they filled the area. Marco was close to freezing up every time they passed a body that wasn't a marine. Near invisible tears flooded his cheeks after only a couple of minutes. 

Men and women of various ages, lifeless on the pavement. The faint smell of a house fire. That continuous replay of shots fired. 

It was a nightmare, but for Ace the worst part was being so close yet so far away from the trauma that Marco was experiencing. 

They turned to the next street. Marine vehicles everywhere. As soon as they noticed them there were bullets flying. 

Ace held on tight Marco, knowing that if he got out of this alive he had no choice but to give up his pride. 

"Where are we going?"

"The Moby Dick, our sanctuary."

They eventually got out of the marine filled area, left the ones that were following them far behind and made it all the way to a large ship in the old harbour.

Thatch hugged Marco closely, as did Izou, when they had made it all the way to the meeting place. They exchanged hushed words and tears. Whispers that no one would dream of hearing.

"I'll do it." It was Ace who had spoken.

"What?" They turned to him, confused.

"The surgery, I'll do it, I... I trust you."

It had been a month since it all when Marco approached him in the hallway of the Moby Dick. He'd mostly been around Izou who'd helped him settle in with the rest of the Whitebeard family. The face of the apparent second-in-command of their whole group had been impossible to find during all this time.

"I'm no longer your captor, so that Stockholm Syndrome bullshit isn't valid now, right?"

"That's true." Ace knew where this was going, and he could help but give Marco a genuine smile. It felt good, for the first time he felt good.

"You mind giving me a second chance?"

"I wouldn't mind at all."


End file.
